365: day twenty-one
The sky was strangled by pale blue today, cerulean seen through milk, so novel that people could be seen stopped in the street, staring. Clear as pastel glass, but no more kind than that. The sunset brought cold as immediately as it does in the desert, as if all the warmth in the world could not soak into this city’s tightly woven bones, too attached to woolen gray skies and shadowed clouds to dream of summer.